Chapter 13
“Who hired Wallace White?” Dane asked Sebastian.
The man didn’t even blink.
Wally said, “It was Fiona, I told you—”
“No, Sebastian must have used my phone by mistake,” Fiona said.
“We never saw your phone,” Shana said. “Because the FBI never confiscated it. Remember?”
“Seems like maybe you were being protected, Mrs. Whitaker,” Dane said. He watched Sebastian turn to her with a deadly stare.
“No—what are you talking about? I only ever did what my husband told me to do.”
“Who told you to have your father set up a meeting with the governor?”
She said nothing.
Sebastian’s face turned dark. “What did you do, Fiona?”
“Nothing. I was frightened. You told me Harry the Hacker came around looking for money.”
“Who else did you tell about that?” Dane asked.
“This is getting us nowhere,” Peck said. He glared at Fiona. “Sebastian had his prison crony set up the shootings—”
“What prison cronies?” Sebastian said. “I don’t know anything about that—I don’t know who this Wallace White is.”
Dane nodded and said to Peck, “Did I mention that I checked with a friend of mine at the prison?” He paused. “And she confirmed that Whitaker here had no contact with the notorious prisonmate you’re referring to. In fact, he was a model—”
“I have proof otherwise,” Peck said. “Written proof. Notes.”
Cap scoffed. “The day a notorious fellow like that leaves a written trail of proof is the day—”
“He had no idea we’d be checking,” Peck said, more agitated.
Dane saw the gleam of moisture around Peck’s hairline. He was starting to lose his cool.
“Wally, we traced the money deposited into your account without your knowledge and it turns out to have originated from a Swiss bank account with three names on it.”
Sebastian Whitaker turned pale.
“You know something about the account, Mr. Whitaker?”
He said nothing, but he darted his eyes at Peck.
Dane decided to leave that suggestion hanging.
Shana spoke up then. “Mr. Whitaker, why didn’t you go home to your wife’s house after you were released from prison?”
“We live next door to my father-in-law. I knew I wouldn’t be welcome.”
“So you hid?” Shana let her skepticism ring.
“I was afraid of him. He was going to kill me—”
“What made you think that?” Shana asked.
He darted his eyes at Fiona. “She told me.” He paused and said, “It wasn’t true, was it? You wanted to keep me away—when I finally dared to come home, you weren’t expecting me—”
“Stop it. Of course it was true. Dad hated you,” Fiona said. Her voice shrilled and she tried to scuff her chair back away from her husband but she butted into Wally White.
“Who cares? This has nothing to do with the case,” Peck said with more calm than before.
Dane decided to test that calm.
“I think it has everything to do with the case,” Dane said.
“Here’s how I think things worked. I think Fiona did hire Wally White to kill Harry Small the hacker when he showed up looking for money just before Mr. Whitaker was to be released.
Mr. Whitaker shared this information with his wife and was nervous, but not murderous.
He wanted to get access to the money and leave town.
We found evidence of his travel plans after a forensic investigation was done of his motel computer. ”
Dane was making that up, but no one except Sebastian Whitaker would know this and he wouldn’t let on. Plus, Dane might be right. He noted that Shana and Cap held back any surprise they felt.
“Fiona passed that information about Harry wanting money to the third party on the bank account and that put the plan to hire Wally the Sniper into motion. But instead of just taking care of Harry, the sniper was hired to scare off Acerman as well—just in case he knew what Harry knew. But who was this third person?”
“I never killed Harry the Hacker—never even heard of him,” Wally spoke up. “So stop saying that.”
“No, you didn’t. In fact, hiring you was almost an afterthought. But they needed to set someone up for killing Harry and it couldn’t be you, Sebastian, not directly. So they had your prisonmate set up as Harry’s employer. And Fiona made the call.”
Dane let that thought sit for a few beats. Sure enough, Sebastian looked at his wife and his implacable look turned ugly.
“You set me up—”
Dane caught him just as he jumped from his chair ready to grab for her neck. The two FBI agents standing by helped subdue him and pulled him back, holding his arms.
“Take him out of here,” Peck yelled.
“No.” Dane wasn’t ready for that yet. Not by a long shot. Peck didn’t like where this interrogation was going and Dane, therefore, liked it very much.
“I want him out of here,” Fiona screeched.
“No.” Dane spoke more forcefully this time. “He’s not going to touch you. Not that you don’t deserve it.”
“You can’t say that—you’re despicable.” Fiona turned to Shana. “Are you going to let him do this? He’s horrible.”
Shana smiled.
“I’m on target. You set up your husband to take the fall for murder and you planned to take all his money.”
“No—no I did not—”
“But why, Mrs. Whitaker? Why did you do it?”
“It’s obvious it was for the money,” Peck said and stood as if the case were resolved. “Take her out of here.” He motioned to one of the two FBI agents.
“Not so fast,” Dane said.
Fiona’s mouth hung open and she looked stricken. Shana noticed and turned to Dane with an eyebrow raise.
“There’s still our last piece of the puzzle. Remember how Wally insists that he didn’t shoot Harry Small? Well it turns out he’s telling the truth.”
“She must have shot him.” Peck started walking around the table and waving the agent over to take Fiona.
“No, she didn’t. Stop right there. I have the ballistics report from the police department that handled the Harold Small shooting.”
That stopped Peck short. He struggled to look calm and interested. He didn’t want to believe Dane. Dane nodded his head and smiled.
“Whatever.” Peck grabbed Fiona’s arm. Fiona screamed.
Shana leapt up and intervened, shoving Peck out of the way from across the table.
“Leave her alone. We’re not done here. Let’s hear the evidence.
” She glanced back at the window where they all knew the others were watching and Peck stopped.
Dane watched perspiration drip down Peck’s left temple.
His mouth was clamped in a white line and his brow was furrowed into a miniature of the Himalayas.
“I wasn’t finished. To recap, we have Fiona keeping her newly released husband away from the house with a lie, we have her telling her Dad to set up a meeting with the governor to flush out Mr. Acerman, we have her contacting Wally the Sniper.
We have an unknown third party shooting Harry the Hacker and we have an unknown third person on the Swiss bank account.
“Plus, we have a few other unexplained odds and ends—like why can’t Sebastian access his own money and who tried to run down Shana George after she spoke with Fiona?”
Dane let the questions hang, but Peck couldn’t stand it.
“None of that has anything to do with this case. This case is about Wallace White taking a shot at Acerman. He’s confessed. Case over.”
No one moved. No one was compelled by Peck’s command.
Although Fiona looked visibly relieved that she wasn’t mentioned in Peck’s latest accusation.
Dane half wondered when Evans was going to send someone in to put an end to all this, but he was a smart man and he knew where the threads were leading, especially if Peter dropped a few hints.
“Here’s where you’re wrong, Peck. Two things struck me. First, you never confiscated Fiona’s phone, either during the initial embezzlement case, nor after Acerman was shot at and her husband was the acknowledged number one suspect.
“Then, when Ms. George tried to take a look at your phone, you were moved to violence. Finally, when we got a look at the ballistics report, which had been previously somehow wiped out—we are investigating how this happened as we speak—we found an interesting fact.”
Peck said nothing. He stood behind Fiona, still with a hand gripping her upper arm.
Dane waited until everyone in the room looked at him, waiting for the news.
“The bullet that killed Harold the Hacker Small was shot from an HS Precision Series 2000 Sniper Rifle. A standard FBI-issue rifle.”
Fiona screeched, surprising even Dane. Peck pulled her to her feet. Unlike normal procedure, she hadn’t been cuffed to the chair. No one thought of her as the violent type and she hadn’t been accused of any violent crimes.
“No—” she sobbed.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Peck pulled her close, but Dane heard him as he leapt over the table, knocking them over.
Dane saw the FBI men draw their guns, immediately followed by Shana and Cap holding them back.
Sebastian Whitaker and Wallace White tried to get up from their chairs, but they were handcuffed and their chairs went with them.
The FBI men turned their attention to keeping these two suspects under control while Dane scrambled to his feet, shoving Fiona aside and facing Peck.
Peck wasted no time gut punching him as he made for the door.
In spite of seeing stars and feeling nauseous, barely able to breathe, Dane grabbed his collar, spun him around and aimed precisely at his previously injured nose before Peck could block him.
Peck fell back against the wall and two more FBI agents crashed in through the door with their guns drawn.
Everyone went still and silent except for Fiona sitting on the floor in the corner sobbing.
Dane spoke. “You can arrest Peck. He conspired with Fiona Whitaker to murder Harold Small and shoot Acerman. He is the third man on the Swiss bank account and likely aided and abetted the embezzlers while on the original Whitaker case ten years ago.”
“That’s preposterous. You’re out of your mind—I’ve been framed,” Peck shouted as blood dripped from his nose and two agents held him. They still hadn’t cuffed him.